


how we start and how we end

by justbecauseyoubelievesomething



Series: Writer's Month 2020 Prompts [21]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Speculation, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Family Feels, Past Brainwashing, Red Sun Eclipse, Sanctum (The 100), season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:02:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26159941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justbecauseyoubelievesomething/pseuds/justbecauseyoubelievesomething
Summary: A Bellarke drabble for Writer's Month 2020. Prompt 21: family.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Series: Writer's Month 2020 Prompts [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863823
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28
Collections: Writer's Month 2020





	how we start and how we end

He looks like an angel.

That’s the first thought that crosses Clarke’s muddled mind as she writhes in the red dirt. She tries to fight the eclipse madness, past the voices in her mind telling her to pull her gun on herself or on the others fighting around her. The tangy smell of blood is already filling the air as disciples, Grounders, and prisoners remain locked in battle.

But her eyes are drawn again and again to Bellamy Blake.

He looks like an angel.

His ridiculous white robes shine through the red dust being kicked up by the scuffles going on. The deepening red of the eclipsed suns doesn’t seem to touch him, rolling away from him like oil slicking off water. He’s standing stock still in the midst of the compound and he’s taking deep breaths. His eyes are closed. Peaceful.

Clarke struggles again to get to her feet. Someone knocked her over and is laying across her legs and she kicks gently only to hear a familiar groan. Raven.

She shuffles around and tries to keep her mind focused as she reaches for Raven’s face. “Raven. Raven!”

The girl is only half-conscious, eyelids fluttering softly. Clarke’s not sure if Raven was the one who tried to attack her or if she was the unfortunate side effect of someone else’s craziness. Right now, it doesn’t matter.

Raven lets out another groan and this time Clarke hears the pain behind it. She awkwardly fumbles her way down Raven’s immobile body and finds where her leg brace has been abruptly twisted so that part of the metal is cutting into her skin.

Taking the contraption off will take too long and leave both Clarke and Raven unable to move, so Clarke bites her lip and goes back to cradling Raven’s face.

“Hold on, Raven. Someone will come help us. Just hold on.”

She keeps up the stream of encouragement to her unconscious friend partly for Raven’s sake, but mostly for her own. Holding her own demons at bay.

Then she hears a cry of alarm and she snaps her gaze back to the battle.

Bellamy is moving. Not just moving. Fighting.

He picks up a Grounder sword and slices through a Disciple without flinching. Then another.

Blood spatters his white robes. The steel sings through the air.

The Disciples turn on him, almost as one. Cries of outrage, of betrayal, fill the air. Driven almost mad already, the religious fanatics are a force to behold as they surge against Bellamy.

But he stands, clear-eyed and with a hint of a smirk on his lips and he cuts them down. One by one by one. Guided by some sort of righteous fury or by the sort of survival skill only the eclipse could give, Clarke doesn’t know.

But he stands. He keeps standing.

He strides through the battlefield and the dust seems to settle where he walks. Battles go quiet around him. As if everyone is watching him now.

Clarke suddenly feels a sharp pain as her world tips crazily sideways and it takes her a second to catch up with the fact that someone just kicked her in the face. She forces herself to shift enough to protect Raven’s face as another booted blow hits her ribs.

“I don’t know what you said to him, you bitch!” Cadogan’s voice. Another blow. Clarke fights off a wave of darkness. “I don’t know how you turned him, but this is all your fault!”

Blow after blow. Clarke struggles to stay awake, the darkness threatening to swallow her.

Then the blows stop and Cadogan’s cutting voice turns into a shriek of pain. Then nothing.

Clarke opens her eyes with some effort, pain distorting the edges of her vision.

Bellamy stands over her, sword dripping with blood. No Cadogan. Not anymore.

“Bellamy?” she rasps. His robe is stained a deep crimson now and he drops the sword with a clatter as he falls to his knees by her side.

“Clarke.” His voice is rough and she knows that later they will need to talk. About everything.

But right now he cradles her head tenderly and suddenly he’s leaning down and kissing her and she’s kissing him back with the kind of passion that only comes when you’re deliriously happy to be alive.

He pulls back and worriedly runs his fingers over Raven’s forehead. “Raven…?”

“She’ll be okay,” Clarke murmurs. He takes her word for it, bringing his hand back to stroke her bruised cheek and she lets her eyelids flutter closed, trusting his touch.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “For coming back.”

He kisses her forehead and whispers into her skin, “That’s what family’s for.”


End file.
